From the Evening Star, April 9, 1913. By Philander Johnson. Spite of all the churlish chatter It is quite a serious matter To become a proper guardian of the peace. You must have a disposition That would fit you for a mission To Turkey or the Balkans or to Greece. You must treat the children kindly, And when people jostle blindly At a crowded crossing ‘mid the dust and noise, You must grab a perfect stranger And convey him out of danger In a way that won’t disturb his equipoise. You must learn the regulations, And likewise the laws of nations, To avoid the chance of diplomatic jar. You must listen uncomplaining, All your sense of mirth restraining, While they come to tell you what their troubles are. You should have a fund of knowledge More than could be learned at college, To assist each weary wanderer in distress. And your compensation should be All a bank director’s could be— Though I fancy it’s considerably less.